The winter soldier
by LazyBrat
Summary: 9 year old Harry finds himself in the word of Ice and Fire. Follow him in his adventures where he experiences some suffering and joy, causes quite a bit of mischief. But most of all, he thrives. I haven't decided on any pairings yet. If there are any, it will be far in the future. Rated M just in case. Mostly for possible gore.
1. Chapter 1

The winter soldier

Prologue

It started with a bang. One like any other that comes along with forceful closing of a door but this particular noise had, somehow, managed to change the world. Like a stroke of a butterfly wing that steers the wheel of fate off it's course and onto a new one.

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The sound of car door closing with a bang was an obvious sign for the little boy weeding the lawn to start running. A furious yell „Boy!" that came right after that was just a reaffirmation for that and spun the boy on even faster. The fleeing child has many names. His aunt calls him Freak, his uncle has named him Boy and his cousin calls him by every derogatory word that a 9 year old can come up with. For his teachers he is just Harry.

The man who inspired Harry's abrupt take off is his uncle Vernon and the reason behind that is quite extraordinary. Or well, the actual cause is probably more common than one would like to think. You see, Harry's relatives don't like him very much. Unfortunately he lives with them and the scene you are witnessing occurs quite regularly. So Harry knows, if Vernon catches him he is in for a world of hurt. What is remarkable about today is the reason behind his uncles rage. Earlier that day while running from the bullies Harry, somehow, appeared on the school roof. He vaguely remembers the feeling of warm rush that courses trough him heating up and turning into an inferno of power and the next thing he notices is sitting next to a chimney and feeling, well ...Alive. Of course school staff didn't like it very much. They contacted his caretakers, result of which is right in front of you.

Harry runs in blind panic, around the building, over the fence and onto the street. In his single mindedness he doesn't notice truck approaching until it's too late. There are bright lights, a loud crash and the world goes white.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own anything. At all. So Harry Potter and Game of Thrones are not mine. It's a sad truth that I have to live with.

Chapter One

First thing Harry felt was cold. It went bone deep and numbed his body. Which was good as he hurt everywhere. He felt as if he had gone trough a meat grinder. He could see nothing and he couldn't move. It was as if there were iron walls all around him. He wanted nothing more than to stay there lying in that icy metal sarcophagus and just sleep. But one can never say that Harry Potter isn't stubborn and at that moment he had decided to fight. To rebel against the lethargic feel of his own body and just _move_. Slowly, methodically he started to push, claw and hit against the wall in front of him. He didn't stop as the skin on his knuckles cracked and bled. He didn't stop as he felt his hands swell from cold and abuse. He didn't stop as the air thinned from his breathing and there was less and less oxygen every minute he spent in that prison. He felt as when Dudley, his cousin, was sitting on his chest and beat down on him. Suffocating, immobilized and in _so much pain._ But slowly, so very slowly he started to notice a change. There was a bit more room, it was easier to breathe and the wall was just a fraction softer.

Nothing can describe the relief that coursed through him at the moment that a slightest bit of light started to shine through a wall that begun to seem white rather than pitch black. He couldn't have kept in the laughter of absolute joy even if had wanted to. And he definitely didn't want to. All he could feel as he broke the last bit of ice and climbed out to a field of snow was elated and heart felt sense of _freedom._

Harry had no idea how long he had been kneeling on that snow sea and laughing to the skies. He didn't stop, he didn't _want_ to stop. And so he laughed, until he could no longer make a sound. His throat felt raw and his cheeks hurt but he didn't care. The shit eating grin stayed on his face for quite some time.

After he had slightly calmed down from the high of adrenaline and sheer happiness of being alive his situation begun to seep in. He was no longer at the familiar street of Privet Drive that he and his relatives live in. He didn't even think he was in England any more. It was so cold and all he could see was miles of snow in all directions. Harry couldn't remember ever being able to see as far without something obstructing the view. It made him feel small. But strangely, it also made him feel safe. If anyone came and wanted to hurt him, and everyone _always_ wanted to hurt him, he could see them from such a distance that it would be no problem for him to hide or run. Harry was proud of how fast he could run.

He looked around his immediate surroundings and saw a blackened figure that he had somehow not noticed before. It seemed like a tree, a burnt tree. It was enormous. Harry felt sadness as he looked at it. It seemed so lonely and broken standing alone in this Winter World. Harry imagined it was as lonely as he had always been. At that moment he decided to make a friend, his first friend.


	3. Chapter 3

I still don't own anything.

AN: This chapter shows Harry's first days in the new world. It is a bit slow but try to get through it. Harry can't just magically undo everything that his environment is about and become master at everything the moment he arrived here. At least this Harry can't. He _will_ get better. Eventually.

Chapter 2

Harry has always been a child of action. He doesn't dwell upon everything that could go wrong or how hard achieving his coals are. He can't afford to and never could. So one shouldn't be surprised that this was exactly what he did. He acted, he carried on, even though he didn't have a slightest of idea what he was doing.

Harry made his way through snow, which in places seemed to carry him like a thick layer of ice but at the very next moment gave away under his feet and he found himself chest deep in the white substance. Getting out of it was a pain. Harry thought it was like a quicksand, every move he made to get himself out, dragged him even deeper under the snow. And just as he managed to dig himself free to continue his trek he fell into the snow again. It plain sucked. But he carried on, because there was little else he could do. After quite a bit of trial and error Harry begun to see and more importantly _feel_ where the ground could carry him and where it would be too soft to do so. Slowly but surely his stride became steadier and his movements quicker. It was quite an achievement, if he says so himself. There is no denying that Harry was boundlessly proud of his accomplishment.

By the time Harry reached the burnt remains of the tree the sun had started to lower and one could see the first wisps of pink in the sky. It was magnificent. Harry could honestly say that he had never seen anything more beautiful. The stark black tree, smooth and glossy as if made of glass, standing on its colossal roots that criss-cross over the lily-white snow like blood vessels. For a second Harry even thought he saw them pulsing. Beating in tandem with the invisible heart of the ancient tree.

On it's surface Harry noticed the slightest of red standing out from the bark that was otherwise as dark as night sky. Thinnest of blood red threads seemed to cover it like a spider web. Harry thought it looked absolutely delightful.

Harry felt it looked like a guardian standing sentinel, shield every living creature that has found themselves lost in this icy land. It was like a Dark Knight, here to defend the weak and protect the innocent. And as such Harry decided that it needs a name. A name that such a grand being is more than worthy of. He named it Batman.

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Harry scaled over Batman's roots, at times getting higher than his school roof and at times climbing under them, where he could see no light from the evening sun, until he reached the trunk of the tree. It was even bigger up close. If he had to wager he would say it was more than 40 meters in diameter and he couldn't even guess it's height. It seemed to go on forever and meld with the evening sky. But what Harry thought was most spectacular about his Batman was its warmth. The moment he touched it it seemed like flesh, albeit a steel covered one. It was so _warm._ Only thing he could compare it to was the warmth that pulses inside him. The one thing that has never left him and has been his continued companion as long as he could remember. His Spark. Batman is like him and that is all that matters. Batman is his home.

Harry climbed down until he reached the space under the roots closest to the tree trunk. They formed a cave that is almost completely closed off with only small slit in the upper "wall" for Harry to climb through. It was perfect. It's closed off architecture ensured that Harry would be protected from wind and exposure and the heat radiating from Batman would keep out the all-consuming cold that would surely follow the sundown. The floor of the cave formed from even more roots. They made the ground a bit wavy and uneven but Harry found no fault in that. One of the bigger dents was just perfect for his small frame to sleep in.

The first thing Harry knew when he woke up following morning was the familiar though never pleasant feeling of hunger. He hoped that aunt Petunia will allow him to eat something today or he won't have any strength to work. And then he remembered. There is no aunt Petunia. Nor chores for that matter. There is just snow and his tree. And his hunger of course.

Harry knew he isn't able to hunt. He might be quick but he is small, even for a 9 year old. Not to mention he has no weapons and he didn't know how to use them anyway. He suspected that a wicked skill in slicing and dicing that he perfected in aunt Petunias kitchen isn't exactly the skill set needed in this new world. Besides he didn't think many animals would live in this unforgiving cold. He was sure that he wouldn't have even survived the trek to the tree without his Spark. So any animals that could survive in this kind of environment would more likely eat him than allow themselves to be eaten.

So he started to search for something, anything remotely edible. In the daylight he saw that undersides of some bigger roots were bone white instead of black. As were many of the thinner roots that reached almost invisibly over the snow like fingers. But more importantly they were much softer than their dark counterparts. Maybe they were dying? Still, they were tough and only way Harry managed to cut them was with the broken off shard of the dark wood that he found. It was actually quite easy this way. The black shard is sharp but more importantly it seems to be very durable. Even so, the roots are far too tough for Harry to eat. They feel like thick piece of leather under his teeth and chewing just doesn't help at all.

Having run out of ideas how to make roots edible Harry starts looking for something else to fill his stomach. He finds some insects and their eggs from the crevices of the roots. Obviously they are also enjoying the heat that Batman gives off so freely. Though gagging at the idea Harry collects a handful of the eggs and insects and starts to eat. They aren't so bad. Or is this hunger speaking? Harry doesn't know and honestly doesn't care.

Secure in the knowledge that there is something that he is capable of eating he starts to scout for water. Even though there seems to be a frozen lake next to Batman Harry doesn't even consider it. The ice covering it must be ridiculously thick as it carries Harry without a problem. And even if he somehow could brake through it, he couldn't keep the hole open through the night. Taking a mouthful of snow he allows it to melt. Not perfect, but makes do for now.

And then he sees it. He was so blind! There is no snow on the branches of the tree. At all. It must have melted from the heat that the tree gives off. It was time for an experiment. Harry gathered some broken off pieces of black wood and created a crude bowl thingy. It wouldn't last for long but would do the trick for now. He gathered some snow into it and waited. It did melt, but not just that. The water started to get warmer until it reached the temperature of a lukewarm soup. Harry couldn't keep in the little shout of delight. He felt like an inventor! So he didn't stop there. He put in the root pieces that he wasn't able to eat before and started "boiling" the soup. It took a long while but the roots got softer and weirdly enough the water turned red. In the end, Harry thought that it was quite enjoyable meal.


End file.
